Captured Farfie
by orbitaltiger8
Summary: UPDATED!! Farfie gets captured by Weiss! It is rated for language, violence, torture, angst, God bashing, and yaoi references. FarfxSchu! Dont read if you don't like! No flames please!!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Weiss Kreuz, or Farf.  
  
Rated for language, violence, and later sexual situations(yaoi).  
  
(A/N) I was re-watching the episodes of WK, and I suddenly thought, 'Hey, what if Farfie had been caught by Weiss?' And this is what I think it might be like. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was so fucked. He knew it. He had let his bloodlust and his want for God's punishment get in the way of his clear-headedness in the fight, if he ever thought clearly. His teammates just hadn't responded quickly enough to his mistake when he had let Siberian slashed him across the chest and followed up with an upper-cut, the claws nearly taking off his cheek. It was a good thing he couldn't feel pain. He could feel his skin healing itself, becoming scabs that would fall off in a day or two. Weiss had him now, and he had no idea what they would do. He had been unconscious when they had brought him in, but it seemed he was in a basement, strapped in a straightjacket chained sitting to the wall. They had taken away his knives, needles, and all his other weapons.  
  
Did they think he was super-human, to chain him like that? He could barely get out of a regular straightjacket, and when hanging upside down, he was there for good until someone let him out. But he would not tell them that. Hanging upside for long periods of time made his head feel fuzzy, like instead of the normal liquid his brain was supposed to be in it was cotton. He suspected in was his version of a headache. All he wanted to do now was seriously maim/torture/kill Siberian. And all the other kittens. And a priest or two. And some nuns. Then he wanted to sleep. Sleeping contently after killing so many would certainly make God cry even more. He was all but lost in his imaginings off torturous deaths to those he had "added" to his list when he heard footsteps coming toward the door.  
  
He couldn't make out much in the darkness, but it looked as though several people were fighting to get a look at him through a very small window. 'They act like this is a damn zoo.' He sighed. God was so going to pay for this. At least a whole clergy when he got out, possibly more if he could get past Crawford. He heard muffled voices, and then the sound of several locks being unbolted. 'Ten. That's more than at home. They must be really uneasy with me here.' Filing that thought away for later use, he waited as the four members of Weiss filed in, weapons drawn, followed by a red-haired woman who looked more curious than scared. He mentally added her to the list and waited for them to start the talking. If they were going to kill him, he wouldn't stop them. His death would hurt God, and his only regret would be that he didn't take them down too. Ah, well, he could live with that. He snickered as he thought that, a stupid pun at a situation like this.  
  
"He really is insane." Said the woman, in a voice he likened to being made to lay in his straight-jacket listening to a boy-band for punishment. Schuldig once said Crawford had thought about it, and Farfarello had had nightmares for a week. "Please, don't state the obvious. I might get a head- ache from listening to your voice to long." He couldn't bite his tongue. But God hated sarcasm, so there was no need. "I seriously doubt that. You're acting like you don't even feel that wound on your face, so how could you get a headache?" Asked a blonde, Bombay, if his memory served him correctly. It usually did. "I can feel the wounds, not the pain. All my pain goes directly towards the Liar." He cackled.  
  
They looked at him funnily after this, exchanging glances and then staring at him again. 'Maybe this is a zoo. I wanna see the penguins. Birds that can't fly hurt God.' He thought, and was interrupted my Abyssinian saying, rather sharply "Don't speak in riddles. When we ask you a question, we want the truth. And we will get it." From his position on the ground, Farfarello looked up at the red-haired assassin, cocking his head. He didn't bother to close his eyes when the lights came on, he didn't flinch either. "How can you make me? You can't hurt me any more than I can hurt myself." He took a look at his prison. Just a big, concrete square room, empty except for him and his captors. They were exchanging looks again. "Are all your wounds self-inflicted, except for the ones I gave you?" He was going to fuck Siberian up big time for sounding so cocky. "All except my eye. I got that taken out when I was in my first institution." They seemed surprised to get that much, but he wanted them to know. He was good at reading people, and he knew what the next question would be. They wouldn't like the answer.  
  
"How did that happen? Were you in a fight?" Yep. Just like he thought. The woman, who had asked the question, motioned for someone outside the door. Chairs were brought in for her and the kittens. "You could say that. One of my doctors, one I had maimed, left me alone with a schizophrenic patient. I was in a straightjacket and he wasn't. He had a mood swing and I got an eye taken out. By the time the guards rushed in, he was dead, and it took the loss of five of their men before they got out of there and gassed the room to knock me out. I was transferred the next day." Farfarello enjoyed their reactions, although he was a bit surprised to see that Abyssinian looked almost approving, as did Balinese. But then, he didn't really know any of then, or their pasts. The rest looked downright disgusted or scared. He watched their eyes travel along the chains, making sure they were tight without getting to close. He smiled, showing a few sharp teeth. He had always enjoyed "playing" with kittens, but he hadn't had the chance since Jei was alive. And Jei had very different ideas of playing than Farfarello.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Eh... I don't really like this chapter, but it was necessary to the story, I suppose. I'm working on a interpretation of how Farfie got this way, and I am doing my best for it to be original. But it will be after this story is done. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Farf. Or anyone else. ;_;  
  
(A/N) Farfarello is really a bastard in this chapter. Hmmm, a sexy bastard. More violence, threatening of Farfie's life, and angst on Omi and Ouka's part. How sad. Oh, and masochism, that's just Farf's favorite hobby. Uh. and killing. He likes that too.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"So.." The silence stretched. The woman and the Weiss assassins had gone, all but Bombay. The woman, Manx, he was later told, said that he was to be monitored at all times. And since it was summer, it was only natural that the youngest be made to stay up. He didn't exactly agree with her logic, and apparently neither did Bombay. "This fucking sucks!" The young assassin cried, glaring at Farfarello, who tried to shrug, but couldn't finish the movement with all the chains.  
  
"What, missing a date with one of your kin?" He taunted after a while, sure that he would die of boredom. His comment got unexpected results. Nine darts embedded themselves in his chest, arms and shoulders. And now the kid was aiming at his head. "Don't. Ever. Talk. About. The. Dead. Like. That." His eyes were tearing up. How cute. Really, he never knew the kittens were such angsty characters. Such fun to play with. Schu was missing some fun shit. And he could manipulate them into hurting God for him. Bombay was doing a fine job.  
  
"Touchy." He bent his head down to pluck the darts out with his teeth. He couldn't reach them all, and his bleeding had already stopped. He was starting to heal, and he didn't know what would happen if he left the darts in. 'Might be interesting to find out. I might even get an infection.' He leaned his head back, closing his eye as if to sleep. He wondered if the kid would kill him. He had killed the kid's girlfriend, er... sister... er cousin. Scary. He could never imagine falling in love with his sister. He had killed her on account that she wasn't his real sister, but he had still loved her, in a brotherly way. He didn't care anymore. She was an accomplice to the Liar and His kind.  
  
"Farfarello. When your... ah when Ruth was looking for you, she said your name was Jei. She said you killed your own family. Is that true?" He sighed. Why did the kid care? He was bored, he didn't have any knives to hurt God, and he was incapable of moving. And he had an itch on his neck. "They weren't my family. They were liars." And tried his best to reach the itch with his shoulder, but the fucking chains weren't giving enough room. He sighed again. He wanted to move, to stretch, to itch. Not to itch, to scratch an itch. He snickered again. "Will you ever let me out of this thing? To bathe, the piss, to ah... I dunno, read?" The kitten looked at him in disbelief. "You read?"  
  
Farfarello looked at him, rolling his eye. "Is that so hard to believe? I'm not always on some killing spree." 'Just sometimes. And only certain people. Like you and your kitten friends.' He felt a stiffness growing in the back of his legs. He guessed it was a cramp. "What kind of stuff do you read?" Why was the kid asking? Farfarello could have dealt with silence; he didn't like talking much, only when it suited his purpose. Striking horror into people's hearts hurt God. Which was his self given purpose in life.  
  
"I'm only asking because I'm bored, and I'm not allowed to kill you." How honest. God liked honesty, even though he lied. "Hn. I read almost anything, like sci-fi to historical accounts on various kings and such." Which he really did. He was constantly making Schuldig or someone take him shopping, since he wasn't allowed to go alone after the whole Mister-looks- like-a-pirate-gee-he-actually-has-a-sword-ACK! thing with the kids during story time. He was glad he had already bought the books, seeing as parts of the four bodies of the kids were all over the store, and he had their blood on him. He got home as fast as he could. One of the books he had bought was a biography on Alexander the Great, and he really wanted to start it. Alexander had been a pagan, who caused war and bloodshed. God didn't like bloodshed.  
  
He wasn't allowed to have anything pointy in his original bedroom, that included bookshelves because of their corners, the same reason as the books. When he was good, he could sleep in a room that was made especially for him, not like the concrete one for when he was being punished, which was his original, but one with a nice soft bed and books everywhere, even a TV to watch South Park. Cursing kids hurt God. Sometimes Schu watched with him, always making him do his Cartmen impression. 'Screw you guys, I'm going home!' He snickered.  
  
"Really? So you're somewhat of an intellectual." Bombay was actually trying to be interested. "I like to read comic books and stuff, like magazines about technology and stuff. And the novels for school." He sighed. He wanted to go to sleep, and wake up able to move and itch and fall asleep again. Nagi once said that he could hurt God by sleeping too much. But he decided the kid was just trying to get his 'baby-sitting' job easier. No one wants to be stuck with a psycho. He wiggled, the darts still embedded were starting to tingle. "I'm going to sleep." He said, and Bombay actually looked slightly disappointed.  
  
He didn't sleep though, he stayed awake as Bombay hummed four songs over and over again, and as the kid was taken out of the room. What really interested Farfarello was that several men who didn't sound like Weiss from their footsteps came in and undid the chains. 'Where the hell am I? And when will I hear from Schu? He could use our link to find me.' He waited until they had finished setting up a cot before he get up and slept, staying in his straightjacket. He didn't feel like going back into the chains. At least now he could itch, or scratch his itch. And if they didn't make him listen to any teeny-bopper music, or put up a crucifix, he would be fine, he might survive.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Uh. I'm not sure that all of you know what South Park is. It's a comedy cartoon (non- anime) about these kids who are in like fourth grade, and strange things are always happening to them. Like a giant Barbara Streisand (Sp-?) monster thing, and Jesus actually living in their time(which is now) and getting the crap kicked out of him by Santa (I believe.) and Satan. Heheh. It is seriously one of the funniest things in the entire world. "God Dammit! You killed Kenny!" "You bastard!" Kenny dies in every episode! LOL!! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz.  
  
(A/N) I don't like how the last chapter turned out. I got bored. Uncaring. Which was stupid, because I always end up caring, and kicking myself for when I don't. *sighs* Oh well. I promise this one will be better. Ish.  
  
!!WARNINGS!! Major God/ Christian bashing. Cursing, and violence. Also, I gave interpretations on God from my opinions about Him, from Farfie's POV because I think they work. And I didn't know what else to put, how else to convey his feelings. Please don't review about my views on the churches or the bible- I have read it twice- because I really don't care for either one.  
  
"..."-spoken aloud  
  
'...'-thought  
  
/.../-telepathic conversations! That's right, Schu's here! ~~~~~  
  
He slowly gathered his wits, remembering and reliving the day before while waking up. Looking around his prison, he saw no guard. 'Not following orders?' Just as he thought that while getting up of the cot and walking around, the door opened and Balinese came in. "Yo." The blonde greeted, smiling a bit when Farfarello nodded in return. 'I must be kept under camera. But where the hell are they?' He looked around, while absentmindedly working to get the straightjacket off. "Hey, what are you doing?" The kitten was pulling the string stuff from his watch.  
  
"Stretching. I'm not gonna-" And he promptly fell to his knees, clutching his head as a voice screamed inside of it /Farfarello!! Where are you? Are you ok? ANSWER ME!!!/ Schuldig. /Stop yelling!/ That stupid red-head. /Hey! I heard that!!/ Farfarello sighed. /I don't know where I am. But one of the kittens is right here, see if you can tell from him./ Only then did he notice that the kitten was yelling out the door, something about him falling and clutching his head as if in pain. /Are you ok though?/ He was very surprised to hear actual concern in the German's telepathic voice. /Yeah, but you yelling in my head caught me off guard. They think I'm having a severe headache or something./ He got up and laid down on the cot again, shrugging off the jacket as he did so.  
  
/Farf, uh, I can't see into their minds. I don't know why. There's some sort of haze- like a fog around them. It's around you too, but since we have a link I was able to get to you./ That was a new one. He knew distances distorted the telepathic's powers, but he didn't think they had gone that far. He relayed his memories of being groggily put into a car and driving somewhere, he had passed out. He also gave him the memory of what happened yesterday in his cell. Looking at his chest disappointedly, he noticed that the darts fell out. /Idiot. You would have gotten an infection, and they probably wouldn't have done anything about it. They'd probably let you die, then what would I do?/  
  
This again. Why was the German always trying to get him in the sack? /Because, oh nevermind. I'll tell you when I next see you. Right know, Nagi's searching for their car, and also the last place they were seen on the net. I'll go visit the kitty house, and Crawford's pulling his hair out about this. It's kind of funny/ -/IT IS NOT! YOU JUST FIND HIM AND THEM WE'LL GET HIM BACK!/ He nearly fell off the cot when Crawford suddenly yelled into his mind. /Ouch./ He sent, and smiled when Schu laughed. Crawford didn't answer. /Hey guys, it really is nice to talk to you, but they're surrounding me. I think they're gonna test to see if I really can't feel pain./ They certainly had enough weapons /Ok. But be careful, and I'll be in touch./ Schuldig left his mind. It felt sort of empty now that he was gone.  
  
"He's not answering us. What's going on?" Someone was asking, and he could feel they're hands hovering over him, wanting to touch but not knowing the consequences. "I wasn't answering because I couldn't hear you." He had been concentrating on Schu's voice so much he hadn't heard their questions. "And why couldn't you hear us?" Abyssinian. Fuck, he hated that guy. "I don't think you want to know what its like to be insane." He was not going to tell them that a German telepath and an American oracle both screamed in his head in less than five minutes. Blame it on his insanity. "Most insane people think that they are the sane ones." He knew they would eventually pull this.  
  
"I'm not sane by any of your standards. I have been to five institutions, all saying that I have serious mental defects involving God, sadism and masochism." He stretched his arms, enjoying the reaction to his elbows cracking. He knew that wasn't normal. A voice he couldn't place asked "Why God?" He smiled, showing pointy, filed teeth.  
  
"Do most people believe in God? They are mislead. I know I am not sane. I must hurt God, and being insane helps. He killed his son. He isn't the kind God all you think you know and blindly love." If he started talking about his beliefs on God maybe they would leave. He felt like he was back in one of the institutions. "He let his son be killed so we could go to heaven!" Ah. A Christian. "Would a truly caring God give up his son for you? Or me? Why not just let all into heaven? Why would a caring and merciful God condone wars? Crusades? Why would he let innocents die? In the bible it said Jesus never sinned." He said, liking the silence it got. He sat up, and maneuvered until he was sitting Indian style on the narrow cot. He ignored the guns and knifes and other various weapons pointing at him.  
  
The man who had spoken was obviously just here for security, and would probably be fired for speaking out. Oops. "We should not question God, because He is divine, and we can not interpret what He will do and for what reasons!" Oh great. He could feel Schuldig moving in the back of his head, obviously enjoying the show. How did he miss the telepath's return? Or had he never left? No matter.  
  
"Ah. This is like in Genesis. Adam and Eve ate the fruit that would give them wisdom, and they began to question God. God knows all; He is omniscient; that is basically what you're saying. So one could interpret that God knew it would happen, so he meant for us to question him. And he meant for the Lucifer to fall, and he meant for humanity to fall and be drown. Another cruel and torturous memory given to us from the bible. Face it. God isn't the merciful kind patriarch he is made out to be in most religions. He is the kind who kills without feelings of regret; although as an assassin I have no room to talk about regret for killing, as do none of Weiss or the rest of Schwarz. But he is the kind of god who wouldn't care whether he fucked his wife, concubines, or," He looked at Bombay "His family." That earned him seven darts in his chest and arms, one in his stomach. As he pulled them out indifferently and as he tossed them to the side he continued "He is not a fatherly figure to be looked upon for guidance. Or maybe he doesn't exist." He carefully kept one dart, shoving it in his pant leg. He might need a weapon, and even a dart was better than nothing.  
  
His speech made them think. The ones he supposed were doctors were watching him closely, his reactions to the darts. They didn't notice him keeping one though. He didn't give one. Siberian said "Then why do you kill? If you're so sketchy on God- Why do you kill to spite him?" Farfarello looked at him as if he were beneath him. /Which, of course you believe./ Schuldig again. /Of course./ He did agree. These peons weren't worth his time, unless they helped him hurt God. "I don't only kill to spite God. If he exists, I hurt him. If he doesn't, I like to kill. And don't tell me you never feel the rush of adrenaline as your blades draw the blood that flows down your arms, covering them like skin, as you hear your victim breathing his last breath, whispering softly across your face like a zephyr... But he exists. He was there when I turned from his faithful servant to his enemy." The assassins were looking away. /Heh. You speak very romantically about killing and death./ He wondered why the telepath sounded wistful. /Do you?/ Yes. He did. Sort of. He shifted uncomfortably, not liking how the telepath sounded.  
  
"Farfarello, this is what will happen. You will stay here until we have all the information we need. You will be treated like a guest, one with, ah, privileges. You will be answering all our questions, and you will do what we say." No. He wouldn't. /Damn straight./ Schu sent. He snickered. /Not exactly. Gay sex hurts God./ He heard Schuldig laugh softly, sadly. He sighed. He then laid down pretending to sleep. He was glad when they left, he needed to think about why the telepath was raising feelings he hadn't felt since he was Jei. /Because I love you./ Schuldig left, and he was positive his mind was empty without him. Well fuck.  
  
"Farfarello, I will be back with you food soon. And I will bring you a bedpan too since you aren't allowed to leave this room." He heard a voice say, and he saw Siberian leaning against the doorway, with Bombay leaning his head against his shoulder. "What's so special about this room?" He asked, not really caring. "Your psychic friend can't get in our heads in this room because of the electric currents in this building." /Right. Let them think whatever they want, Farf./ He was actually glad Schu was back. He fell asleep, his mind connected with the German's. In another part of the country, Schu looked around the insane Irishman's mind and smiled. He already had a place here, the Irishman just wasn't aware of it yet. Curling his body around a pillow, he fell asleep, his mind still connected to Farfarello's.  
  
~~~~~ A/N: Oh, yeah, it's gonna be yaoi from now on. Farf-kun and Schu-kun! They are so totally glompable together! Woo! They are so my favorite pairing. 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz. It hurts to say that.  
  
A/N: If torture and squikishness aren't your things, don't read this. Blood's gonna spew!! ^__# Be warned. Oh, and more Farf/Schu. Well mostly Farf/confusion/Schu. But eventual Farf/Schu! Eh. Ok! Got it all! On w/ the fic!  
  
"..."- Spoken aloud  
  
'...'-Thought  
  
/.../-Telepathic speech  
  
~~~~~A few days later...  
  
He was on a bed, straddling a certain German telepath, nuzzling his face in the crook of the red-head's neck. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this..." Schuldig moaned, squirming as the psychopath nibbled the skin in front of him. "I know." He wasn't one for talking during sex. Wait... sex? With his German?  
  
He woke up in a flurry of sweat soaked limbs and a sheet the doctors threw on him before they left. /Schu?/ He heard snoring in his head, also the sound of mumbling. /Schu, are you there?/ Yes, he was undeniably there. His mind was still linked to the telepath's, and they had been sharing dreams. He must have fallen asleep looking though the telepaths eyes, longing for some familiar surroundings. The doctors had a notepad full of answers from Schu instead of ones from himself. They had been making it a habit of coming to his cell and interrogating him, on everything from God and his views, to music and his hate for anything pink. One of the female doctors wiped away her magenta lipstick after he said that.  
  
He thought about the dream. Gay sex hurt God. Was he the one having it, or was it his telepath? Wait, his? When did he start calling the telepath his? He sighed and buried his face in his hands as the steel cell door opened. "You woke up late today." Balinese. At least he was capable of conversation, sort of. Yesterday Abyssinian was all but ripping him apart when he asked where he was. Touchy, him. "Hn." The other assassin smiled. "And you looked like you were having some racy dreams. About who, I wonder?" He sighed. "That's none of your business." His head felt tight and fuzzy. "Yours truly." Balinese concluded, and he didn't let him think any different.  
  
/Farf?/ Schuldig was awake. /Schu, you gotta try again. I can't stand being here. I need to kill, I need y-/ "Hey, HEY, are you listening?" Balinese was boring. Of course he wasn't listening. "As I was saying, today you are scheduled to have a few tests done on you." /Tests?/ Schuldig sounded odd. /Farf, I'll try. I don't like the way Yohji said tests. Be careful./ He could feel Schu moving to the front of his head in an effort to invade the other assassins' mind. Yohji? Hmmm... "So, Yohji, when are the tests?" The blonde looked up, obviously shocked that the snowy-haired psychopath knew his name. He sat up to better taunt the kitten. "How did you know..." He could hear Schu laughing softly. /His last name is Kodou and he's somewhat of a playboy. Have fun, liebe./ He wondered what that meant. Was it an endearment? He almost hoped so. They both had agreed, without words, to not say anything about Schu's confession.  
  
Over the past few days he and the telepath had grown closer, they had always been close. The telepath would talk/complain to him, and he would tell Schu what he thought, about anything. They talked about whatever, and always sided with each other when Crawford was being an ass. Not that it mattered, he always got his way. Usually it was about what kind of order-in food they wanted, then which restaurant. Or whether killing people was wrong if you weren't getting paid; meaning Farfarello killed some clergy- men, and Crawford wanted to punish him, and both he and Schu argued, and then Crawford made Schu hang him up. Wait... was Schu an endearment? Yohji was yelling at him.  
  
"Fuck, do you live in your head? How did you know my name?" The kitten was getting edgy. He grinned. "You would be the one talking when you live with your dick, Kodou." He smiled even wider, baring his teeth when the blonde man nearly fell off the chair he was sitting in. He wondered how Schu was doing. /Not good, liebe. I can only get phrases. Ask him where you are, that might get him to think about it./ He caught himself nodding. "So... where am I?" He almost laughed when Yohji sighed. He had been asking that question at the most inconvenient times, hoping to get an answer. It almost worked once. But that was with Siberian.  
  
/Ken Hikada, Farf. Freak 'em out by knowing their names. It's fun. Yes!! I got it! Your at an abandoned warehouse, about fifty miles north of here!! We're on our way!/-/See you soon, Farfie!!/-/We'll make sure to bring you an extra weapon./ Schu must have connected to all of them, because they all answered. Nagi sounded excited. He wondered if the kid actually missed him. Crawford sounded, well, Crawford-like, but happier. The Irishman supposed he was a big investment.  
  
"Well, well, looks like the doctors are in. Have fun, psycho." Oh great. The 'doctors' were wheeling in an old experiment table with a bunch of sharp medical paraphernalia on it. He stared at them longingly, wanting to shove them in the doctors' eyes, hearts, throats, whatever to draw blood, to kill... he was so lost in his thoughts that he let the assassins who followed the doctors behind him. They tied him up, belting him to the table. He wished he was telekinetic so he could kill all of them. 'But then where is the fun in that?' He looked at the first doctor who entered, who was also the one to first come at him with a blade. "Now Farfarello, there is no reason to struggle if you feel no pain."  
  
"Uh, doc, don't be to harsh. Only a few tests. That's all the boss wants." Balinese said, and somehow he felt grateful. Doctors always made him uneasy. But they were going to help him hurt God. "Yes, yes, now go. This is for medical faculty only." The doctor looked at them expectantly, and after a little private conversation they left. He supposed to go up to the camera room, since none of them seemed to trust the woman who was currently holding a scalpel above his head. She would help him hurt God. He still had yet to find the cameras.  
  
The first doctor nodded to the others and slowly cut away the very soiled clothes from him, all except the bandages. 'There goes my weapon.' First they examined the places where he had been struck with darts over the past few days, at first just probing and poking, drawing a little blood then exclaiming when it healed slowly before them. He tried as hard as he could to remember the feeling of pain, and the whispers felt like they were there, in the back of his mind, where Jei had once been. He couldn't go back to that no matter how hard he tried. Going back to that would mean going back to God.  
  
He looked down at his chest and arms, where they were now, with their gloved hands, cutting small but deep cuts to better study his healing and pain resistance. He looked regretfully at the blood they drew, which was now puddling on the table around him. He wouldn't be able to taste any unless they cut his mouth somewhere. Cutting through the bandages, he felt them drop some sort of liquid on his stomach that made his skin seem tighter. Hydrochloric acid. He had always had a very small reaction to it, only the foremost layers of skin burning before it diluted. He had tested himself twice, after he saw what happened to the clergy members.  
  
Even though he strove to hurt God, his death would disappoint and sadden Him. Farfarello was the one disappointed when he didn't die, and he was just now recognizing why Schu had been so pissed off at him for doing that. But mad Germans hurt God, so he did it again and Schu stayed with him for two days, until he promised he wouldn't do it again. Schu had called him a friend. /You are, liebe./ They were driving very fast toward where he was.  
  
Looking around, he saw one doctor holding a torch. They were going to burn him. He also saw a doctor holding a notepad, writing down all his reactions to the tests, and looking very disturbed because he didn't give any, except an occasional sigh. He liked hurting God better when he could see the pain on someone else's face, when he could taste the other's blood; this was just boring. He started laughing. They were hurting God, all the pain that should be his wasn't.  
  
He first felt the heat gathering near his ankles, toes. He couldn't raise his head enough to see, but he suspected that he was on fire. The heat was almost painful, but it was just a few steps behind that. He had burned himself too. He heard the sound of a fire extinguisher, and then he saw a needle in his line of vision. He recognized the stuff inside, some sort of nerve serum that almost all the institutions tried on him. Injecting it in him, he could feel the first tingles all around his forearm, and spread. It wasn't wholly unpleasant, but it got annoying after a while. 'Oh, this is a new one. Knives and the serum.' He thought.  
  
/Serum?? And knives?? What else have they done to you?/ He smiled, almost feeling Schuldig and the others cringe as he related his encounters to them. He felt Schu moving in his head, feeling the tingle but no pain. /Ooh, shock treatment next./ He sent, and smiled even wider as Schu sent him pictures of their blanching expressions. /Ok, you guys get me outta here soon. I'm getting terribly bored./ He knew what was coming next. They were going to shock the hell out of him, and then they would probably move to deeper cuts. That was always the most dangerous one, he had almost died a few times from the slashes he received, from himself or the doctors. Schu was always there though. He was only now realizing that he relied on the German more than anyone else in his entire life. And the only time the German relied on him was when that bastard Takatori beat them with a golf club. /No Farf, it has always worked both ways./ That might have been comforting if he could think that.  
  
The shocking was dumb, he hated the way his body twitched and spasmed as the currents went through him, and he hated the way he could feel it racing through without the pain. He wanted the pain, needed and craved it, and hadn't felt it since he was Jei. He couldn't think.../Farf?/-/Schu, is he there?/- /Crawford, he's passed because they shocked him... but they are doing something to him. Can you feel it? Nagi?/ -/Yes, I feel it. They are injecting something else into him. Crawford, we better hurry./  
  
"Good. He's passed out. Administer serum number two, and let's get out of here. The serum might not work as planned." They gave him the second serum, punching a huge needle into the side of his neck, making sure to not hit anything critical. "What will happen to him?" The one with the notepad asked. "If all goes well, he will be trapped inside his mind. If it doesn't go well, he could die. Or go completely ballistic, which is way we should be moving along..." She waited while the other doctors left, and whispered in the unconscious man's ear "It's too bad you attacked me all those years back. Now you really are stuck like this, not playing like you would. You will be like this the rest of your life."(*) She ran a maimed hand over his eye patch, before ripping it off and limping out of the room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: DUN DUN DUN! (**) This is the longest story I have ever written. Woo! Chap. 5 will be about Schu in Farf's mind, and a bunch of sappy yaoi-ness. Whenever I get around to writing it.  
  
(*)- Remember in chapter one, the maimed doctor and the schizophrenic? That's her!  
  
(**)- My twin(kind of) ImmyKay read this, and when she read the end she was like "...all I can say is Dun dun dun!" And I was like that's funny! She then started bugging me to continue. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz.  
  
A/N: This chapter is about Farfarello and his "demons" in his head. *cackles* This is so much fun to write!! Oh, and there is a special note to all the readers of this fic at the end. Thank you to all those who reviewed!!  
  
~~~~~Pretty song...(This is what I imagine playing as Farf walks though his mind)  
  
If it stayed I'd never leave it-- If that turned around I'd grieve the special dirty things that we used to talk about-- I mean that loving you is strange and adored by me throughout-- Oh no it's you again-- Someday soon you'll find that someone waiting for the chance to beat you -- Drooling on the set to feel you -- Blessing you with every kiss --  
  
~~Tying yourself to me stitch up my emptiness 'cause you're the death of me- - So precious, loving the thrill~~  
  
Such the patient one who needs me-- The spoiled one who wins -- So shocking where's your sense-- Don't you know I hate you so -- Unsatisfied you little girl--  
  
~~Tying yourself to me stitch up my emptiness 'cause you're the death of me So precious, loving the thrill~~  
  
Rolling dice and seeming queer-- Bastard love a sick affair -- Let's see what new disease you'll fetch-- I mean that fucking you is strange and adored by me throughout-- Oh no it's you again blessing you with every kiss -- So precious you know this hate of mine exploded -- I'm so deranged you know I will never be the same--  
  
~~Tying yourself to me stitch up my emptiness 'cause you're the death of me So precious, loving the thrill~~  
  
~***~Orgy, "Stitches" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Red, black, whispers of grey, nothing. And everything. Farfarello had been wandering for what seemed like an eternity, remembering and reliving the happiest and saddest times in his life. They were the only ones he kept with him over his life, the ones that kept him going. The sad ones were mostly about his lying family, and his lying mother. He continued wandering, searching for his happier memories. He found them in a dark cavern of his mind, warm and dry like embracing an old friend, or lover.  
  
It was comforting. He watched them over and over, smiling when he saw his first victim as Farfarello bleeding dry all over again, as he and Schu got home after a late night killing spree, himself high on his sated bloodlust and Schu high on the minds and various substances he had taken part in.(yes, drugs and alcohol) He was laughing his ass off when he remembered how Nagi reacted when Schu accidentally killed his favorite laptop, remembering how the telekinetic had made almost all the objects in the house chase the German, and how only Crawford telling Nagi that he would get him a state-of-the-art brand-new one would persuade the telekinetic to stop enhancing to objects. Schu still had bruises, enough to play connect the dots, even though he wouldn't let him try. Farfarello had wanted to play with a knife.  
  
Then he got depressed, and began to wander around again, think about how he would never see the friends he had, and thinking about how he would never kill, and about a certain telepath... He pushed him out of his mind. He saw a corridor of his mind he kept shrouded in darkness, making it almost foreboding. It also emanated the German's presence. And he knew then and there that he loved Schuldig. Why else had he kept this here, this little place the German made? Even his subconscious mind could get rid of this. Walking into the cavern, he was assaulted with warmth, love, and promises of happiness that only one assassin could keep, the promises of killings and blood, centered around the deranged sexuality of death and love. The promises of soft kisses and heated embraces, of love. 'Love...' He sat down in the corner of the space he devoted to the German, and wept, two lines of tears running streaks that shone eerily in the bleak light. He went over all the memories of the German, from when they first met in the asylum he was currently in, to the last time he heard his voice -/No Farf, it has always worked both ways./- Memories... They were all he had left.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Ok. If you want me to write anymore, you need to review. And even then I might not be able to because I leave the country in two day. I will write more when I get back, the second of August. Seriously, I love Farfie too much to leave him like this! So sad... Schu will save him!! ^_# And then they will have hot man sex!! 


	6. NOTICE!

Only three reviews? I'm so unloved!! Heheh...  
  
Ok, this is just to say I'm back and writing more... Oh and here are the reviews... THANK YOU SO MUCH Angry Blood Sister and Bernstein for sticking with this story! I love you!! You read it from one to now! Thank you leilandra too!  
  
leilandra please wrigt more ^_^  
  
i cant wait for the hot man sex ^_~  
  
farf&schu are my favorite pairing,  
  
*glomps farfie*  
  
~~ Thank you!  
  
Bernstein(Anon.) Poor Farfie...  
  
But if Schu is supposed to resque him, then it's all right. Only this chappie seems too short^_^  
  
I'll be waiting for the next one and remember-you promised! ^_^  
  
~~ ^_# I know!  
  
Angry Blood Sister Happy to hear it. I don't think Farf would appreciate it very much if you left him to wander his mind.  
  
"A mind is a terrible thing." hehehe  
  
I'M REVIEWING! So I expect a new new chapter on Agust 2nd. or there'll be Hell to pay! lol. =D  
  
Love this story! Good job!  
  
~Tabitha, The Mad Hatter  
  
~~ Thank you! ~_# I forgot my laptop so I couldn't write at all... 


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz. So I don't get paid to play with Farfie, even though that would SO be the perfect career for me. It's fun!  
  
A/N: _#....... When I was away I had a lot of time to contemplate about things, and one of them was insanity. Let's brake down the word, shall we? In = un, meaning not; sanity = in one's correct state of mind. So essentially Farfie's not in his correct state of mind, but we all new that, right? But many people say that retarded is the same thing. So let us brake down that word also. Re = again; tard(tardy) = slow or late. So it means slow, in one's mind. Meaning he can't speak right or that he is not capable of thinking on his own. Farfarello can do both of these things, he just likes to kill, so society says he shouldn't think on his own.  
  
SO WHY DO SO MANY PEOPLE MAKE HIM STUPID??? Many brilliant people were said to be insane, and many people also say that insanity is genius taken a step further. I'm sorry people, but I've read so many fics where he's drooling or running into walls or something. And I don't mean humorous ones, but ones that actually make him like that because they think he is, but he's not if you watch the episodes. Poor abused Farfie. Ok, I'm done ranting.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
(Schuldig's POV)  
  
Schuldig was running down a seemingly endless corridor, searching the minds of people he now had access to. 'I have to find him.... I have to find him....' He knew he was being careless and that Nagi was yelling at him to be careful, but all that seemed so trivial when he saw what they did to his Farfarello in their minds eye, all under the orders of some doctor who seemed so much more deranged than Farfarello ever had. At least to him, but then, is a telepath ever really completely sane?  
  
He now knew exactly who to look for seeing as the doctor was the only lady on the team who worked on Farf, and she was crippled in some way. As he turned into a room, opening the door without caution as he knew the only person inside was cowering in the back, he came across a ton of information in the person's head. He was shaking in anger and fear as he lived what the person had lived in that cell with Farfarello, cutting him open and torturing him all over again. Walking over to the man, he began his own kind of torture.  
  
He smiled thinly as he watched the man writhe and twitch as he slowly went through his mind, not bothering to hide his presence and making it as painful as possible. 'There we go.' He found the information on where Farf wad in Alfred Retonni's mind, and it wasn't far from where he was. He relayed the information to Nagi and Crawford, and they told him all was clear as Nagi had swept the building with his powers, devastating everyone but Schwarz within fifty meters. As he exited the storage facility the cowardly Alfred had been hiding in, he saw the woman doctor, a Doris B. Paiva, laying facedown in a puddle of blood. His eyes were caught on something clutched in her hand...  
  
'Farfarello's eye patch! That BITCH!' Schuldig ran to her side and would have tortured her to death but Nagi had already killed her. He grabbed the black leather covering, wondering how Farf looked without it, already running to the little cell his Farfie had been in for four days. Well, actually five days.  
  
He finally got to the cell, and was very surprised to find his soon to be lover lying on an old metal table covered in a sheet from head to toe, his scarred arm hanging limply off the side bearing two worn black leather bracelets. He didn't seem to be moving, living...  
  
For about five seconds Schuldig stood in the doorway, not daring to move closer because he knew if Farfarello really was dead he would make himself follow shortly. Then, as Nagi and Crawford pushed by him, he saw Farfarello's chest rise, barely. He ran to the table and ripped off the sheet, then hurriedly covered up the more private parts from Nagi and Crawford. Farfarello was HIS. He slowly looked toward his face, expecting to see something horribly disfiguring, but only saw a large scar stretching from the upper left part down to the right. The eyelid seemed shrunken, obviously there was no eye behind it.  
  
"Is he alive?" Nagi's thin voice broke the silence.  
  
"Yes... But I don't know where..." Schuldig couldn't pick up any surface thoughts from the Irishman. He delved as deep as he could while still concentrating on his body, and only found a flicker of thought... Like a memory. 'Entombment..'  
  
He wrenched himself out of the blackness, stumbling backwards against Crawford. Panting, he pulled over a cot he saw in the corner and sat down, next to the unconscious man, and slowly explained...  
  
"Somehow, they managed to force him deep in his own mind, and trap him there, away from his body. When I went in, all I saw was black... And I only heard a few whispers of thought. I- I think I'm going to have to search for him, completely leaving my body. And even then I might not find him... or I might not return." He was holding on to Farfarello's hand, one of the hands he had found so interesting when he had first met the insane Irishman, watching him playing with his knives, put on his gloves, he liked those gloves, they were sexy-  
  
"I forbid it! What if you, as you say, get trapped in his mind too? I will not lose two members of Schwarz! Do you have any idea just WHAT Eszet will do to ME if I fail to bring both of you out alive? Oh no, you will not be frolicking in anyone's head today! At least he's alive! We can let headquarters deal with him!" Crawford was already making his way toward Farfarello... When the back of Schuldig's fist collided painfully with his stomach.  
  
"Sorry Crawford, but I don't think so." Schuldig slumped forward, using Farfarello's stomach as a pillow.  
  
He threw himself into Farfarello's mind, going deeper and deeper into the blackness until he heard the steady hum of thought that he was so used to. Carefully, he called out, "Farfie?"  
  
He was now pretending to walk down what the Irishman had fashioned into corridors of his mind. It was like a castle, but void of any light except an eerie reddish hue coming out of what appeared to be an open doorway. He hastened his pace, guessing that was where Farfarello was.  
  
"Ah, Schuldig, I was expecting you." He entered the doorway and saw the psychopath sitting in his chamber, looking exactly how he had looked before he had been taken by Weiss. And then he suddenly dematerialized, and Schuldig knew the meaning of pain, making everything else he had felt pale by hundreds. His image collapsed as it would in the real world, and he heard the Irishman's voice again.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me? From what this room you created told me, I have had feelings for you for several months. You let me think that the only thing I had to live for was hurting God, when you were living for me this whole fucking time. And the past few days here, you knew I now loved you, and yet you seemed happy enough to let me continue thinking I didn't. Why?" His voice was too calm, too emotionless. Schuldig was in deep shit.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A/N: Here is the sixth (seventh if you count the notice) installment of Captured Farfie. I think I'll change the title after it's all done. There will only be about one or two more chapters, and then maybe a follow-up. Cheers! 


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own WK.  
  
A/N: Thank you for all those who reviewed! I was listening to Slipknot and Mudvayne when I wrote this, so it might be a bit chaotic. It's still in Schu's POV, and to answer musegurl18's question, Yes, Of course! If you read any of my other stories, they are all lemons. Probably always will be... Oh well, that's for a psychiatrist to sort out in my later years. Heheh... Or maybe I don't want to change. Whoosh! And here are lyrics from Slipknot's Spit it out, just because I think they are funny! Whoosh *splat*  
  
~^~^~^~^~^~  
  
Since you never gave a damn in the first place-Maybe it's time you had the tables turned-Cuz in the interest of all involved I got the problem solved- And the verdict is guilty...  
  
...MAN NEARLY KILLED ME-Steppin' where you fear to tread  
  
Stop, drop and roll - you were DEAD FROM THE GIT-GO!-BIG MOUTH FUCKER - STUPID COCKSUCKER-Are you scared of me now? Then you're dumber than I thought-Always is, never was-Foundation made of piss and vinegar-Step to me, I'll smear ya -Think I fear ya? BULLSHIT!-Just another dumb punk chompin' at this tit-Is there any way to break through the noise?-Was it something that I said that got you bent?-It's gotta be that way if you want it-Sanity, Literal Profanity HIT ME!  
  
SPIT - IT OUT-All you wanna do is drag me down-All I wanna do is stamp you out-  
  
Maybe it's the way you spread a lotta rumour fodder-Keepin' all your little spies and-leavin' when you realise-Step up, fairy-I guess it's time to bury your ass with the chrome-Straight to the dome-You heard me right, bitch, I didn't stutter-If you know what's good - sit, shut up and beg, brother- Backstab - Don't you know who you're dissin'?-Side swipe-we know THE ASS THAT YOU'RE KISSIN'!-BIGIDY-BIGGIDY BITCH BOY,-HALFWAY HAUSER-Can't hear shit cuz I keep gettin' louder-Step up, and you get a-face full o' tactic- Lippin' off hard, goin' home in a basket-You got no pull, no power, no NUTHIN'-Now you start shit? Well, ain't that somethin'?-Payoffs don't protect, and you can't hide if you want-But I'LL FIND YOU - Comin' up behind you!  
  
SPIT - IT OUT  
  
All you wanna do is drag me down  
  
All I wanna do is stamp you out  
  
'Bout time I set this record straight-All the needlenose punchin' is makin' me irate-Sick o' my bitchin' fallin' on deaf ears-Where YOU gonna be in the next five years?-The crew and all the fools, and all the politix-Get your lips ready, gonna gag, gonna make you sick  
  
You got DICK when they passed out the good stuff-Bam-Are you sick of me? GOOD ENOUGH - HAD ENOUGH  
  
FUCK ME! I'm all out of enemies!  
  
FUCK ME! I'm all out of enemas!  
  
SPIT - IT OUT  
  
All you wanna do is drag me down  
  
All I wanna do is stamp you out  
  
--Slipknot's Spit it Out from their self- titled album.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Schuldig's POV  
  
"Farf... Farfie... I- I didn't-" Schuldig took a deep breath as he tried to get the words out around the pain that Farfarello was somehow.  
  
"What's that, love? Hm?" Farfarello was once again sitting in front of him, his expression one of infinite patience and knowledge. He was poking a rather large needle through his dead skin on his hand, wait, it wasn't dead skin, it was bleeding...  
  
"I- I didn't mean to hurt you... I love you. I came here to get you out, to- FUCK!" He was once again assaulted by pain, but much less, more like an erotic pain, and this time there was lust mixed in...  
  
"Get me out of my own head? Thank you, I do need your help with that. But do tell me, why didn't you tell me? That I loved you." He added when Schuldig squinted up his eyes, trying to get rid of the images of the Irishman screwing him senselessly into a bed, or bending him over a desk, or-  
  
"I- can't really think when- you send all these emotions to me... I suppose it's because I thought you'd be mad if I told you- I thought you'd deny it." He took a deep breath as the feelings and emotions stopped and continued.  
  
"I thought you'd refuse to spend time with me, and- damn I'm getting sentimental because of you- I thought you'd begin to hate me. At first, I wanted to believe that it was just a fascination, you know, like a crush. I mean, a big bad telepath-manslut wouldn't fall in love with someone insane, right? Farf, I have been in love with you for over five months." He finished resentfully, laying his image down on his back, crossing his arms underneath his head as a pillow.  
  
He tried to find where Farfarello had gone; his image was no longer in site. But trying to find Farfarello inside his own mind was like trying to find a schizophrenic's favorite candy, you can never choose which one. He closed his eyes... So many different emotions and thoughts and images wafted over him, he wanted to know them all as they were part of Farfarello and that they didn't seem hostile anymore. He was about to get up and wander some more, but he felt a weight rather like a hand on his chest...  
  
He opened his eyes, and looked up into Farfarello's face, which was smiling a gentle, soft smile. He leant down and brushed his lips across Schuldig's, pulling back as the German lifted his head to deepen the small kiss.  
  
"No more secrets." Farfarello said, looking into Schuldig's jade eyes.  
  
"No more secrets." Schuldig confirmed, sitting up and kissing Farfarello hard, his insistent tongue demanding entrance. He wrapped his arms around the Irishman, pulling him down on top of him, completely forgetting that he wasn't a real person with a real body. Farfarello complied, leaning over Schuldig and exploring his mouth thoroughly with his tongue.  
  
"Let's get out of here." Farfarello's voice said, though neither of them broke their kiss.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Farfarello's POV  
  
He was slowly being drawn back to his body, feeling like he had woken up after a particularly long sleep. Sitting up groggily, he felt something heavy slide down his stomach.  
  
"Morgan, liebe." Schuldig said, then promptly fell asleep.  
  
Smiling again, Farfarello said softly, "Good morning." Looking around the room, he saw Nagi and Crawford looking at him warily. He started to stroke the sleeping German's hair.  
  
"Somehow, I don't think Schuldig would want you to do that, Farfarello." Crawford said, watching Farfarello's hand, which was moving in time with the German's soft snores.  
  
"Actually, I don't think he'll mind." Farfarello said, looking down rather fondly at Schuldig, while Nagi and Crawford exchanged looks. They had only seen Farfarello look at knives like that. Nagi opened his mouth to ask a question, but Crawford shook his head. They didn't want to know, whatever happened.  
  
"Farfarello, cover yourself up with the sheet. We're going home." Crawford turned heel and walked out of the cell. It reminded him of the one Farfarello was punished in. Nagi waited, ready to use his powers to carry the German, but Farfarello had already finished fashioning a toga-type thing out of the sheet and was carrying the telepath out the door.  
  
"Come on, Nagi, I really need a shower." Farfarello's voice wafted through the door.  
  
~^~^~^~^~^~  
  
A/N: Ok... One more chapter and this story is done!! WooHoo! 


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, or its characters. But if I had any money, I'd by Farfie!  
  
A/N: Ok, so this is the last chapter. I want to thank everyone who actually read this! I have a lot of fictions that are collecting dust on my hard drive, and I am going to make an effort to finish those before I start the follow-up. The content of the sexual scene and Farfie's killing spree was scaled down to be rated R, but if you want the NC-17 version, e-mail or IM me or tell me in the review. This version isn't the best, I'm not exactly sure what "R" is, so I'm being very careful. The NC-17 version is much better.  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
Farfarello's POV  
  
Farfarello tucked Schuldig into his bed and walked out into the kitchen, where the conversation between Nagi and Crawford stopped immediately. He walked over to the coffee maker, grabbing a cup along the way. While pouring a cup of coffee, he heard Nagi speak.  
  
"I'll just get the water for your shower running." Nagi was out of the door before Farfarello's voice stopped him.  
  
"I can do it by myself. Afterwards, I want some time... out by myself." He finished his coffee, and walked down the hallway to the bathroom, where he shed the shirt and boxers he had put on as soon as he got home. He adjusted the water to warm and stepped under the spray, washing away the blood caked onto his hair and skin.  
  
He vaguely wondered where his eye patch was, but decided he didn't care as much right now as he cared for getting his hair clean. He reached for the vanilla-smelling shampoo, noting none had been used since the last time he used it. Lathering up, he thought about what happened while he had been trapped in his mind. Schuldig had come to rescue him, and confessed his love for him. As he had for the German.  
  
Rinsing out his hair, he scrubbed himself thoroughly with a rough cloth, until he was sure he had gotten all his blood off of him. He didn't mind others' blood on him, but his own wasn't the same anymore. He almost hated the fact that the German affected him so much, but it was comforting to have something to live for now. Besides hurting God. But while his relationship with Schuldig hurt God too, it wasn't the main purpose for the relationship.  
  
Reaching for the vanilla-smelling conditioner, he thought about what he was going to do after the shower. He had told Nagi and Crawford he was going out, and since they hadn't objected he was still going. Fuck, he was still going even if they weren't willing to let him. He had five days of blood- letting and maiming to catch up on. He smiled predatorily and began to wash the conditioner out of his hair.  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
He walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a small towel hanging precariously on his hips, not caring about the stares he got from Crawford and Nagi. Walking into his upstairs bedroom, he rummaged through his drawers, deciding on a black tank-top, his vest that had the knife sheaths fitted on the inside of it, and his black bondage pants.  
  
He pulled on his customary gloves and some black socks before his army boots. It was about 7 in the evening now and he knew from memory that some of the churches had a daily mass at this time, while some had a daily service where people could come and pray for their lost ones, which was overseen by a priest and some nuns. He had forgotten the name of such a service, but he knew at least where to find them. St. Stephen Protomartyr, a church right down the street.  
  
He walked quickly to Schuldig's room, ignoring both the stares from his two other teammates and the sign on the door that read "Schuldig's room! Do not enter! I'll kill you!"  
  
He walked over to the bed, and seeing that Schuldig was still asleep, he leant down and kissed the telepath on the cheek. Grabbing a scrap of paper and a pen, he wrote "I went out to pay my good wishes to some acquaintances. I'll be back soon. Farfarello." He set the note in Schuldig's hand, making a fist. Looking up at the doorway, he saw Crawford there, looking at him with an odd expression.  
  
He got up and walked out the door, calling back "Don't let him come after me if he tries." He walked quickly toward the front door, five days worth of anticipation making him want to run, but Crawford's voice stopped him.  
  
"You think that he will try and come after you?" Crawford asked.  
  
"You're the pre-cog." Farfarello walked out the door and into the night.  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
"Do you think God will save you? Does his offer of eternal salvation extend to the Mothers of Lies?" Farfarello asked, pressing the blade of his knife to the nun's throat. She looked like Ruth, but skinnier with blondish hair. Scattered behind him were several bodies, either gutted with their entrails lying beside them or their throats slashed. He was covered in blood, and he was shaking with glee and rage. Glee that he was killing, and rage at the woman for her shallow whimper of an answer.  
  
"No, wrong answer." He slit her throat, licking the blade clean. He looked around. No more people here. He had killed seven or eight people, and that was plenty. He walked over to the pool of Holy Water, where baptismal services were held, and rather ceremoniously cleaned off his arms and face. The blood only showed up as wet spots on his black attire. After he finished, he started to walk back to his home.  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
When he got home, all the lights were off. He opened the door, then turned around and locked it. As soon as he turned back around, a certain red- haired German telepath crushed his lips into a hungry kiss, and wrapped his arms around Farfarello's neck. Farfarello lifted Schuldig up, pressing him against the wall while placing small feathery kisses along his jaw line. When he got to Schuldig's pulse, he stilled. Schuldig brought up his hands to bury them in his lover's silvery hair, tugging gently while he bit down on his neck.  
  
"Please, Farfie..." Schuldig pleaded, thrusting forwards, rubbing his hardness into Farfarello's stomach. The hands on his ass clenched while the mouth on his neck came up, looking for a kiss. While they were kissing, Farfarello walked blindly toward his room, unceremoniously dumping Schuldig on his bed.  
  
"Please? Farfie, I want you...." Schuldig pleaded again, and clothes flew everywhere. Soon they were a tangle of limbs interlocked as one, connected in mind. After they both finished, they cuddled up next to each other, murmuring good-nights and soft I-love-yous.  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
I hope that's R. Oh, well, that's the end! Whoosh! Please review and if you want the NC-17 version let me know! 


End file.
